The Golden Master
I. Could a man truly choose to be free, or was he merely choosing a different kind of cage? Mehmet Arslan stood before the iron gate of the Kars fortress, his breath a white plume in the air that had turned to ice in the lungs of the garrison. The cold was not a mood; it was a physical fact, a hammer that had burst the pipes in the signal tower quarters until the walls wept slush and the...
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